Valka's Journal
by GBJackson
Summary: After returning to Berk after twenty years, Valka must readjust to village life, and get to know the people all over again. She decides to write her observations in a journal.
1. Entry 1

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon..._

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I thought I would take a break from my own head-canon and write a little bit about Valka. It occurred to me that she would be the sort who would document things, if she had the means to do so. Dean DeBlois stated that she will have been teaching her dragon knowledge to Hiccup and the rest of the Dragon Riders, and now that she is back in "civilization" I figured she would write a journal about some of her experiences, at least for family reference.

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VALKA'S JOURNAL

DAY 1

I am not a woman of many words. In fact, I've spent the last twenty years of my life saying very little to anyone, aside from demanding dragon trappers to leave, before Cloudjumper and I chase them away. But one thing I missed in those long years was quill, ink, and parchment to write things down. Oh, I could write plenty of words, but I typically left most of the speaking to my husband.

When Cloudjumper carried me away from Berk, it had only been a few short months after Hiccup was born. He came early into the world, and seemed so sickly and weak, but Stoick was convinced that he would not only survive, but would prove to be the strongest of all the children born around the same time.

Oh, my dearest Stoick. So stubborn. So unchanging. He was so right, but not in the way he expected. Our son turned out to be a fine mix of us both. He has his father's stubbornness, and his mother's reasoning skills. And while, at the time of this writing, he has only just come into his own as Chief of Berk, he has already proven himself to be a great leader, with strength of both will and wit.

After twenty years, I am home. And I am amazed at all that has changed, mostly because of Hiccup. But Stoick deserves credit as well. As much of a dragon killer as he was, I never would have thought it possible. But there he was in his last hour alive, riding a Rumblehorn in defense of the very cratures he had sworn to destroy. It only took our son and his Night Fury nearly sacrificing themselves for the sake of Vikings and dragons to get him to see the truth I had been trying to tell him for years.

After I came home to what was our house, clearly new, though of the same design, I could not find any of the journals I had written. I had hoped that Stoick would have read them after I was gone, and would have come to see the truth. Maybe he did and hated what I had to say and burned them. Maybe he was going to read them but the were burned in a dragon raid before he could. I have no way of knowing. It does not matter. They're gone. But I am home, and I intend to replace them, starting with this one.

I know this is not much of an entry, but I have only just arrived. I need to get out among the people and get to know them again. Many of them were not too friendly to me before I left, because of my views on dragon. But now that Berk is a dragon-friendly place, I will give them a chance to start again with me, just as I will be starting again with them.


	2. Entry 2

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon_

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VALKA'S JOURNAL

ENTRY 2

After my last entry, I decided to walk around Berk. It's so strange, those paths are so familiar, I could have just walked them two hours before, instead of twenty years. And yet it feels so different, looking around and seeing dragons wandering freely or just being lazy on the roofs of houses. As I passed by one of the houses, a Deadly Nadder lounging peacefully in the yard caught my attention.

I've always found Nadders to be some of the most beautiful dragons. And among the most loyal as well. And this fine specimen was wearing a saddle, so it clearly had bonded with someone. I decided to take a closer look. As I stepped forward, the door to the house opened, and out stepped the pretty young woman I saw with my son. Astrid, I believe her name was. She was carrying a large plate of Chicken. I couldn't help but smile.

"I see Hiccup taught you the trick for feeding Nadders chicken to boost their speed!" I had said to her, and I waved and smiled as she looked up with surprise. I really must remember to announce myself properly to people. She was the third person who practically jumped out of her skin at an out-of-the-blue statement.

Then the girl's eyes had narrowed and she looked at me with disdain. It only lasted for a moment, but it was there. "Actually," she said, "I taught Hiccup the trick, But how could you know, you haven't been here for the last 20 years." There was another shocked look, this time it was like she couldn't believe she had said that out loud.

That explained it. The look of disdain was because of my absence from Hiccup's life. This young woman's bluntness summed up exactly what I was already feeling. And while her words hit a raw nerve, I could not fault her. She tried to apologize, and I told her that she should never apologize for speaking the truth, even if that truth was painful.

I asked her about her relationship with Hiccup, and she explained how it all started, how Hiccup was practically treated like an outcast, even by his own father, all because he was different. She admitted to being a part of that by not sticking up for him, and instead choosing to keep silent. I saw the remorse in her eyes. But then she spoke of when she rode a dragon for the first time, and how if it were not for Hiccup, her eyes would never have been opened.

When she spoke, there was unmistakable adoration in her voice. "Berk needed something different, because continuing to do things the same way wasn't working" was what she said, and went on to state that the something different turned out being the entire current dragon training class riding dragons against the queen. Led by Hiccup.

Hiccup had downplayed his role. When he told me about how the Dragon War had ended, he made it sound like he was just participating in the effort rather than leading it. One thing I always prided myself in was being able to read people. There was no sign that Astrid was exaggerating. In fact, there was no sign of duplicity about her at all. She carried herself with confidence, and the way she met my gaze unflinchingly, and her blunt statement about my absence told me almost all I needed to know.

Almost. Without thinking, or really caring, I asked her if she and Hiccup had shared each other yet. Here eyes widened and she blushed. She told be that under no uncertain terms would she give herseld to any man without being married to him first. Moreover, she informed me that Hiccup had never tried to take their relationship that far. The look she fixed me with seemed to demand why I would ask such a thing.

I told her that I knew it was an awkward question, but that I felt it was important to know the character of both my chief and the woman who would be his wife. That was the scales-deep truth. The heart-and-soul truth was that I hoped that things were as good between them in their premarital relationship as they were between Stoic and I were. Stoick may have hated dragons, which always bothered me, and he always had a reputation of being forceful and self-serving, and when our fathers arranged our marriage, I was terrified that he would be all over me all the time. But aside from his hatred of dragons, he was never anything but loving and kind towards me. Unless I suggested being kind to dragons, which made him smash whatever item he was holding, stare at me with exasperation, and storm out of the room. He had way more self control than people gave him credit for. And is seemed that Hiccup had inherited the same traits in that regard as well

Astrid had accepted my answer, but her expression made it clear that she knew there was more to it. I felt a little guilty, but I just wasn't ready to talk about Stoick yet. But since Hiccup and Astrid are betrothed, I know I'll be sharing plenty of advice, based on my own experiences.

We talked about different things, mostly related to dragons. And aside from that minor reaction from her at the start, Astrid was friendly and helpful. The one thing she asked for help with was cooking. She said she can't seem to make anything for Hiccup that he can't stand, even though he pretends to love it. I promised her I would help her out with that.


	3. Entry 3

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon_

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 **Okay... this is short, but I hope it packs as much of a punch when you read it as it did when I was writing it. Having recently lost my father to cancer, and having so many things to deal with in the aftermath and needing to maintain an image of strength, I know what it feels like when I can finally be in solitude and just feel.**

VALKA'S JOURNAL

ENTRY 3

I was walking through the trails on the back side of the island when I came across a clearing. It wasn't abandoned, though. Even from behind I could recognize my nephew, Snotlout. His helmet was lying on the ground off to the side, and he was kneeling down with his head bowed, and I actually heard sniffling. If he was anything like his father, he would not want to be seen in such a state of so-called weakness. So I turned to leave and stepped on a stick. The sound startled him, and he quickly turned to face me.

"Oh... Aunt Val," he said, wiping his tear-stained face. "I was just... I mean, I... There's just too much dust here, and I..."

"Oh, for the love of Thor, Snotlout, You don't have to hide your emotions from me," I said back to him. "If I told you about half the times my brother endured 'too much dust,' he would probably kill you for knowing about it."

He looked down at his feet, clearly not any happier.

"So what's got you crying, lad," I asked

He stepped to the side and gestured to what was on the ground. It was a metal S, painted red. "We brought this back from Dragon's Edge just over a year ago. An S for Snotlout. But the Snotman never did anything heroic. Not compared to Uncle Stoick. His name started with an S too. And he was a real hero." He fell to his knees and let the tears fall.

I was a his side in an instant, with my hand resting on his shoulder. I felt him stiffen and then relax, giving into the pain and grief that he no doubt had been holding at bay. We Jorgensens have a really hard time letting our feelings show. Even I do, to a degree. But my brother Spitelout always used to tease me about wearing them on my shirtsleeves. Curse him and bless him. Of course it is important to maintain an air of strength, but feelings are part of what makes us human.

"It's alright, lad," I told Snotlout. "Let it out. Do not be ashamed. I won't tell anyone."

He continued to grieve the loss of his uncle. And while he did, I also let fall more tears. My beloved Stoick had sacrificed himself for our son. And in so doing, had sacrificed himself for the future of Berk. When we burned his ship, Hiccup had described his father as "Selfless." That word began with S as well, and so I could not think more highly of my nephew's choice of symbols to memorialize his uncle, and I told him so.

"Thank you," he said.

We remained there a few more minutes, and then headed back to the village together. "Tell me a little about Dragon's Edge," I said as we waked away from the clearing.


	4. Entry 4

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon_

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VALKA'S JOURNAL

ENTRY 4

After we had gotten back to the village, Snotlout and I had lunch in the great hall, and he told me all about Dragon's Edge, from his point of view. It was an intriguing tale. I knew about Dragon Eyes. There used to be several of them, held by Dragon Lords long ago, before Vikings settled in the Barbaric Archipelago. In my travels with Cloudjumper, I founf a lot of manuscripts written by scribes of that age. And it would seem that the Defenders of the Wing, and the Wingmaidens are actually descendants of theirs. Different customs and rituals, but a common love and respect for dragons. I knew of the Wingmaidens. I was invited to join them, actually, but I turned them down. The allure of the wide world I was discovering was too great.

I was sad to learn that Hiccup had destroyed the two Dragon Eyes he had, one an original and the other he made himself. I am going to have to talk to him about making another one, as they are the birthright of a Dragon Lord, which he clearly has become, though his humility will not allow him to admit it. Yes, in the hands of people like Drago Bludvist, the full knowledge the ancient lenses could unlock could be a danger to dragons. But the ancient Dragon Lords made the mistake of recording _all_ of their dragon knowledge. If Hiccup were to be careful with what is recorded, the danger wouldn't be nearly as great. But then, Berk does have the Book of Dragons, and while it used to be a how-to manual for killing dragons, It has since been rewritten by Hiccup and Fishlegs to be a how-to manual for befriending and train them. So Dragon Eye or no Dragon Eye, knowledge is being preserved.

One of the most amazing parts of Snotlout's tale was the recovery of the Bewilderbeast Egg. He called it the King of Dragons, and he was correct. Not even a Red Death could resist the command of a Bewilderbeast in its prime. At any rate, The Wing Maidens contacted me just over a year ago and told me about the Egg, knowing that I knew someone who could protect it. They did not tell me who had found it, or the circumstances of its finding. It is with a wonderful sense of irony that it was Hiccup and the Riders of Berk who saved the egg from Krogan, and thus keeping it out of Drago's hands. It didn't keep him from enslaving a Bewilderbeast.

As to to who I knew who could protect the egg... Well... That was the white bewilderbeast from the Itchy Armpit sanctuary. He left for a week to take it somewhere. I have no idea where that is, but apparently it is somewhere under the ocean because when he returned, his scales had taken on a grayish tint, and that only happened when he had been out to sea for an extended period, which wasn't that often. So out there somewhere, there is, or soon will be a baby Bewilderbeast living in safety. There aren't many of them left. I know there is one somewhere to the far northeast. There was the one at the sanctuary, the one that had lived on Berserker Island, the one Drago has, and now the baby one. So that's only five I can be certain of.

That's still more than there are left of Night Furies, at least in this part of the world. I really do hope that we can find more. Such wonderful creatures, if Toothless is any example.


	5. Entry 5

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon_

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VALKA'S JOURNAL

ENTRY 5

I will always remember it as the Kill Ring, even though it is now the centerpiece of the Berk Dragon Academy. So much pain and suffering had been meted out over the years there, and standing at its gate, I could still hear the scream of tormented dragons in the recesses of my mind. I wanted to scream myself. I wanted to vomit. Innocent dragons senselessly murdered here, and innocent children turned into murderers, if they survived. And to think that my son was made to participate.

"Uhm, Lady Haddock?" came a timid voice from behind me. I turned around and found myself facing a portly young man with blonde hair under a helmet that seemed way too small for him. And he was sporting the ghost of a beard. "Are you alright?"

I told him that it was hard for me to be there, with everything I had remembered about the place.

He bowed his head sadly. "And to think that if Hiccup had not discovered the truth, I might have ended up badly hurting, or killing my Meatlug," He was almost in tears. And as if in response to his mood, his Gronkle nuzzled his hand affectionately.

I asked him for his name, and he gave it as Fishlegs Ingerman. We did not have a chance to introduce ourselves on the battlefield, and he had disappeared during the celebration after Drago was driven away. His dragon had been under a Bewilderbeast's control, and so it seems that after being reunited with her, the lad wanted some bonding time. It was refreshing to see a generation of Vikings that actually cared about dragons.

"Since we got back to Berk after the Red Death was defeated, this place has, for the most part, been a safe haven for dragons," he said.

"What do you mean by, 'for the most part,'" I asked.

"There were times we ended up locking them up, either because of some misunderstanding or for their protection," Fishlegs explained. "for the first year, it was a bit challenging. Generations of hatred and distrust don't go away overnight, for a lot of people. But Hiccup was determined to change all that, and we were happy to help. Now, when you look around all of Berk, there is nothing to indicate that it was ever unfriendly towards dragons.

"Except for the Kill Ring," I said.

"When Stoick gave this place to us, we considered tearing it down," Fishlegs said. "Hiccup even had drawn designs for dragons stables, similar to the ones we built since. But we didn't want to waste time rebuilding when we could start befriending dragons and teaching people how to train them. It was easier to just re-purpose the Kill Ring.

I was skeptical, and he could tell.

"Come in and take a look around, Lady Haddock." he said, gesturing with both hands in a welcoming manner.

For the first time in twenty years, I actually stepped foot in the Kill Ring. I looked around. The smell of dragon blood was not present, and the cobblestone had been scrubbed clean of the refuse and stains left by terrified creatures who just wanted to live, but had not been allowed to. The massive solid cage doors had been replaced with shiny metal barred gates, and were standing open. There were dragons inside, but they were just lounging peacefully in the shade.

"The bars are made of Gronkle Iron." Fishlegs explained. "We discovered the formula a few years ago. It's the strongest and lightest metal we have ever learned to make. Hiccup felt that if there was ever a reason to secure dragons in here, that they should be able to see out."

"And dragons just come in and lay down?" I was still having a hard time processing that.

Fishlegs smiled. "The older dragons who remember the days when we killd them don't. But some of the new ones who have come to Berk since everything changed like to rest inside where it's cool and shady. I think it reminds them of a cave. We also tend to wounded dragons in there. And we do use the bars for that, Keeps them from wandering out and getting hurt or something from wandering in and hurting them."

I was impressed. Hiccup and hist friends had done an amazing job in changing Berk to a true dragon sanctuary. And while I still saw the Kill Ring, as I remembered it, in my mind's eye, What I now saw with my actual eyes was not so bad. And as I continued to look around the place, Cloudjumper wandered into the ring, went straight to one of the open cages, and plopped down, looking ready to fall asleep. That pretty much changed my mind. There really was no longer a place on Berk to indicate somewhere unfriendly to dragons.

I thanked Fishlegs for helping me clear up my perception.


	6. Entries 6-8

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon_

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VALKA'S JOURNAL

ENTRY 6

I thought watching adolescent dragon play-fighting was exciting. But watching those twenty-year-old twins simply _interacting_ with each other was insane! They could just be talking, and then one of them would just randomly haul off and sucker punch the other. Sometimes even kicks were thrown in while one of them was down... And by that, I mean that the one that was down ended up kicking the one that was standing. In the groin. Hard. And it didn't matter who was on the receiving end of the kick. They both laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.

I really am making an effort to meet all of the core members of the dragon academy, but I am almost terrified to get near these two. Clearly, they have Loki's greasy fingerprints all over them. I think I will try to catch them by themselves. It may be safer.

ENTRY 7

I managed to catch up with Ruffnut Thorsten when her brother went off with Eret to do some drinking. She was sitting alone, looking miserable. "Hello, lass." I said, and she looked up at me with an annoyed expression which melted into a warm smile when she realized who I was.

"Oh, Mrs Haddoc," she started. "How goes it?"

"It goes well," I replied with a smile of my own. "I couldn't help but notice that you seemed a bit upset."

Ruff frowned. "Is it that obvious?

"Only a little," I said, trying to be reassuring.

Ruff chuckled. "I'm confused," she said. "Snotlout and Fishlegs both seem to like me, but they have been almost like brothers to me all our lives. It would be so weird if I liked them back... Wouldn't it?"

"Think of it like this," I said. "We go all our lives searching for that special someone to share our dreams, goals and hopes with... And the trials. With strangers, it's hit or miss. But those we know, and who know us, are more likely be able to do that. Especially if they are seeking the same thing."

She seemed to consider my words. "That does make sense," she said.

"Now," I said. "Which one of them do you like most."

The smile on her face melted away. "Both," she said as she did a double face-palm.

I told her I couldn't help her with that problem, except to say that she should consider which one she felt would be able to take care of her better. Because whomever she chose may well be the one she ends up stuck with.

And she went back to looking miserable. I never had two people to choose from. For me, it was always going to be Stoick. In a way, it simplified things. I was fortunate that he turned out to be a good man. I only hoped that Ruffnut would be as fortunate, with whomever she chose.

"I need to go," she said. "way too much to think about."

ENTRY 8

Catching up with Tuffnut was not so simple. The lad was all over the place and nowhere at the same time. People would tell me they saw him in one place, but by the time I got there, someone else said he had gone somewhere else. I ended up having to fly Cloudjumper around the island before I found him. He running at a cliff face, full speed, and jumping into it. Repeatedly. Did the twins ever do anything that wasn't insane? Of Course not. Their father was just as crazy. A stark contrast to their mother, who was one of the quietest girls you could ever know. Rumor had it that her parents arranged the marriage with the Thorstens with the idea that her husband would break her out of her shell.

The funny thing is that that is how the twins got their name. She was such a tough and rough nut to crack, that her husband had declared that if their firstborn was a girl, she would be Ruffnut, and if it was a boy, he would be Tuffnut. Apparently, Loki decided to have a good joke at his expense when she ended up giving birth to both at once. And even as infants, they did everything together... especially waking up in the middle of the night, screaming at the top of their lungs...

Anyway, So Tuff is laid out on his back, staring up at the sky with a goofy look on his face.

"What on Midgard were you doing, lad," I asked him.

"What?" he said with surprise. "Who!? How!? Why!?"

"That just leaves 'when' and 'where,'" I stated.

He sat up and looked like he was trying to focus his attention on me, but he seemed to be unable to. "If I wanted to know any other questions to ask the five of you, I would ask you. _hic_ "

"Are you drunk?" I asked him.

"I'm asking the questions here, missy?" he said, though the statement came out as a slurred question.

Yep. He was drunk. "I asked the first question," I responded with mild irritation.

"Who asked you?" he shot back.

"I'm asking you," I retorted.

"Aaaannnnd?" he drawled.

"And what?" I asked.

"What was the question?" he returned.

I rolled my eyes. "I asked you what on midgard you were doing."

He narrowed his eyes. "Liar! You asked me if I was drunk."

"That was my second question. My first question was what on midgard you were doing?"

"When?" he asked

"A minute ago." I said.

"Where?" he aksed.

I sighed. "that cliff-face over there.

He nodded with satisfaction. "That's all the questions I have. Thank you for your cooperation." He turned on his heel with determination and started to walk away. And, after two and a half steps, he face-planted on the ground and started snoring. It took some effort, but I managed to get him draped over Cloudjumper's back and I flew him to Gothi's hut. Clearly, I wasn't going to be able to have a normal conversation with him until he sobered up and recovered from his up-close and personal interaction with a wall of rock.


	7. Entry 9

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon_

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VALKA'S JOURNAL

ENTRY 9

Something had been bothering me ever since Hiccup and I had first talked back at the Itchy Armpit sanctuary, and that was the loss of his leg. I had tried to ask him about how he coped with it, but he just brushed it off as the result of an occupational hazard. So if I knew anyone who could best fill me in, it would be Gobber. So I made my way to the forge, which had been significantly expanded to include work stations and machinery that clearly were used for making dragon saddles. Based on what I had seen of Hiccup's work, the machinery looked to have been a collaborative effort between him and Gobber. It was quite impressive, actually.

"Gobber?" I called out.

There was a loud clang from a side room, followed by a string of profanities. "Be right with ye!" After more banging and more profanity, a curtain slid open and Gobber emerged from the back room. When he saw me, his eyes went as wide as saucers and he swallowed hard. "Valka! Please forgive me for that outburst. Had I known it was you, I would have been more careful with my tongue."

I laughed at his sheepish expression. "And deprive me of this amusement? I think not."

He grinned at that. "Same old Val," he said.

"Same old Gobber," I responded, with a grin of my own.

"What can I do for ye?" he asked.

"I've got some questions about Hiccup," I stated. "About his leg."

Gobber sighed. "Aye. A real rough patch, that was." He shook his head with a disarming expression.

"But the lad bounced back just fine."

"Just fine?" I was shocked. "The lad lost his leg. At fifteen. I remember when you lost your limbs. You bounced back. But you weren't 'just fine' for a long time."

Gobber bowed his head. "Aye, you're right. I wasn't. But I am tellin' ye, Val. Aside from occasionally forgettin' that he had to walk different with the prosthetic, especially were ice was involved, the lad didn't even seem to get upset. 'Im an' that Nigh Fury o' 'is. They were inseparable before the accident, and after, they were even stronger than before."

I had folded my arms and was frowning. "Be that as it may, He had to have been in horrible pain.

Gobber nodded. "Aye, normally someone with an injury like that would be. But 'e was in a coma for two weeks."

"A coma?" Did Hiccup ever _not_ downplay things?

"I will nae lie to you, Val." Gobber said. "The lad came as close to dyin' as a man can come. Stoick was so worried. We all were. I think watching Toothess worrying over Hiccup as he lay in that bed is what really changed Stoick's mind about the beasties. He was reluctant to make a decision about what to doo with all those dragon that were hanging around after they brought us home. But then he got up one morning and called the other teens together and asked for their ideas. Of course, the suggestions from Ruff, Tuff and Snotlout didn't hold water. But Fishlegs and Astrid clearly had been giving it serious thoought. By the time Hiccup woke up, Berk was transformed. He was more shocked about that than he was about his leg. And he was racing the other riders, on dragonback, not even out of bed for an hour."

I shook my head with a wry smile. Stoick had insisted that even though Hiccup was born so soon and so small, that he would be the strongest of the children who were also born at about the same time. It turns out he was right. A weaker person could not endure what my son had endured. And to know that such a drastic changed as what happened to Berk was because of his influence told me just how strong he actually turned out to be.

And now that he was Chief, he may prove to be even more effective than Stoick, or his father before him, ever were. Already, because of him and the things he had done, the Berserkers, the Wing Maidens and the Defenders of the Wing, and even the Outcasts were allies with each other. There were other larger tribes out there who might still need some convincing, but it would not surprise me if the entire Barbaric Archipelago ended up at peace in my own lifetime.

There would, of course be challenges. There always were. But whatever fears I had about my son were a lot fewer now. I really needed to sit down with him and talk to him about the future. But just like his father, he was up with the dawn and didn't seem to stop moving. Every time I caught a glimpse of him, he was helping the people work out issues caused by Drago's attack. But life went on with a more or less positive hum, and that was really the best one could hope for with us Vikings.

Gobber and I talked about this and that, and then I took my leave. I needed to get in the air. I rattled my staff and Cloudjumper appeared shortly after. He was as much ready to fly as I was.


	8. Entry 10

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon_

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VALKA'S JOURNAL

ENTRY 10

Eret. Son of eret, has been a thorn in my side since I first met him. Though at least he was not as cruel as his predecessor, Krogan, or his former employer, Drago Bludvist. But while he was less cruel, he was also more cunning. His dragon trapping techniques were both efficient and effective, to the point where the sanctuary's bewilderbeast had to take matters into his own claws. There had been about a year's reprieve from invading trappers, and the King was not going to tolerate an end to it.

I warned Eret that if he did not leave, that there would be consequences. He ignored me and proceeded to build a fort on our shores. Something that even Krogan had not attempted to do. But Eret was impulsive and believed in a more direct approach. His crew was almost as skilled as he was, though a few of them came up a bit short in terms of brains. But Eret took good care of them and they were loyal and were good at carrying out orders.

So he built his fort, and began receiving supplies and equipment for a protracted operation. It was clear that he intended to stay, but the King decided he had to go. In the night the Bewilderbeast left the sanctuary and came out from the sea. With a roar, he drew the attention of Eret and his hunters, while Cloudjumper and I managed to free the dragons that were in holding cells. Once we were clear, with one blast of ice, the King had obliterated the fort, leaving sections of it encased in ice so thick it would take weeks to cut through it.

The next day was the day my son came, and set in motion the events that brought change to the sanctuary island, now called Itchy Armpit. The biggest change was Eret, who turned from dragon trapper to dragon rider. In the chaos that followed, I was not able to talk to him about it, but now that things had settled dowm, I figured it was time.

I found him in a cove with the Rumblehorn that had belonged to Stoick. He had the saddle off and sitting neatly to the side while he was polishing the dragon's scales. The large, bulky dragon had clearly bonded with the former trapper, whose motions were firm but caring, I flew past them, turned, and set Cloudjumper down, facing them.

"I fine day to you, Lady Haddock," he called with a friendly wave.

I couldn't help but smile back. He had that disarming way about him that put you at ease. It wasn't flirtatious. He had a good personality, and I wondered what sort of man he would have been had he not become a dragon trapper. "Fine day to you as well, Eret son of Eret," I replied in the same formal tone. "I was wondering if I could speak with you."

"Of course, of course," he said with a slight bow. "Just let me put this stuff away, and I'll lay out the picnic blanket."

A Picnic... With Eret? I wasn't sure if that would be apropriate. And yet he had come to this cove by himself, and it was nearing lunch time. He probably planned to take his ease here with his new dragon, and I just happened to show up.

"I wasn't expecting guests," he said. "But I always bring extra food, so there's plenty to share."

"A sensible precaution," I said as he put away the cleaning tools in one side of the saddlebag, and then pulled out a waterproof bag from the other side and handed it to me. It was simple fare. Just travel biscuits, but they looked and smelled much better than the ones I was used to. "Did you make these yourself?"

"Aye," he said. "Most provisioners just throw travel rations together with just the bare ingredients needed to make them edible. But they usually have very little flavor and turn to lead in your gut. When you rough it as much as I do, you learn to take time to make your own, and you end up perfecting the recipe. Try one."

I did. And as travel biscuits went, it was delicious. And I said so.

Eret smiled. "At least I did that right," he said, the sadness of his tone not matching his expression.

"What do you mean?" I was a bit concerned. "Since you turned your back on Drago, and decided to help us, it seems to me that you've done a lot of things right."

He sighed. "Maybe. But it doesn't right all the wrongs I've done before. How many innocent creatures have I trapped and sold? How many of them were brutalized for sport or subjugated by Drago and forced to do his bidding? How much damage have I done, all because I had to become a dragon trapper."

He turned away from me, shoulders shaking. It was a gesture I had seen Stoick make when he was dealing with the emotional weight of a hard choice he had made. If I could see his face, I knew it would be contorted with the effort of fighting back tears. Strong men like Stoick and Eret... And my son... will always try to hide their pain, fearing that it would make them look weak. But more often than not, the pain they want to hide is a direct result of their strength: If they were weak, they would not take actions or make decisions they know would hurt them.

"Why did you _have_ to become a dragon hunter?" I asked, not unkindly. This was clearly the source of his inner struggle. And while he started as an enemy, he had redeemed himself, and so I _had_ to try to help.

He turned to face me with a look of surprise, bordering on anger, but it only lasted a moment. "Perhaps it's time for me to tell the story," he said as he spread the picnic blanket out. He motioned for me to sit, and continued. "My grandfather was a disgraced pirate. Disgraced because he refused a direct order from his captain, who was also his older brother, to kill a man in front of his wife and children. Instead of making him walk the plank, he put him in a small rowboat, bid him farewell, and promised if their paths crossed again, he _would_ kill him. So my grandfather was free of his life of piracy, but found himself penniless. He ended up on an island populated by a thriving tribe of people who were very generous to him. He repaid them by helping them fight dragons, and he proved to be good at it. He was using his skills to help people. He married a local girl who gave birth to my father, who followed started out following in his footsteps." He shook his head.

"Started out?" I asked.

"Aye," he said. "He became a seafaring man, with dreams of sailing to as many ports as he could in a lifetime, on his own ship. An expensive dream. He started off hauling cargo and ferrying passengers. He still helped fight dragons, but never asked to be paid for that, though he did not turn down money that was offered. And the money was good enough that after a few years, he was able to buy a large enough ship for some serious cargo hauling. All he needed was a crew. As fate would have it, A man named Cyrus Stormfoot hired him and his ship, and provided a crew. The job was to transport captured dragons, with the promise of ports all over the northern reaches. The money was more than good, and he returned home a wealthy man, after just a few runs. He married his childhood crush, and I was born."

I was intrigued. It sounded to me like things had started out relatively well. I wasn't happy with the fact that Eret's grandfather was a dragon fighter, and his father was a participant in trafficking enslaved dragons, but nobody thought like I did, at the time. Except maybe the wing maidens or the Defenders of the Wing. But they had yet to become involved with affairs back then. "And then what happened."

My father lost a shipment of dragons, and Cyrus Stormfoot decided to make an example of him. My mother and I were enslaved, and he was made to serve as a trapper, with a quota of dragons to meet before he would be trusted just to transport them, and for us to be released. And then... Drago happened. Stormfoot was expanding his operation and encroached on Drago's territory. Drago decided that he liked Cyrus's fortress and took it for his own, It and everything in it. He killed Stormfoot. And gave everyone else an ultimatum: Work for him, or share their former boss's fate. He now had me and my mother, so my father had no choice but to serve. And as soon as I was old enough, I was assigned to a trapping ship under a man named Krogan."

Now the story was getting closer to home. Krogan's crew were faceless strangers to me. Just the man himself was the only person I had any direct knowledge of. He had been getting closer and closer it the sanctuary island, and he was picking off dragons on outlying islands, using some of the cruelest devices. But then for about a year, he disappeared, And then Eret showed up.

"I was good at what I had to do. Very good. And so when Krogan was eventually called away by Drago for a special operation, I was made acting captain. The ship was never too far away from where Krogan was, so he could call for us if he needed us. He rarely did. Ultimately, Krogan failed and Drago had him killed. And I was made captain in truth. Then, I had my first run-in with you, and lost the dragons I had trapped, and Drago ended up giving me this," He pulled poen his tunic and I saw the brand that had been placed there.

I was horrified. "I am so sorry. I only thought to save the dragons from a cruel fate. I never considered that I might be sentencing you to one."

He waved his hand dismissively. "You were doing the right thing. I wasn't. In retrospect, it was a small price to pay, and it doesn't come near to what I deserve for the innocent dragons I turned over to Drago, or the countless human lives lost at his hands. If I were to die a million deaths, I don't think it would be enough.

I stood up and motioned for Cloudjumper to come to me. "Stand up, Eret," I said.

"What?" He looked confused.

"I said stand up." I repeated.

Reluctantly, he stood.

"Now walk towards Cloudjumper with your hand up, palm out."

He looked back and forth between me and my dragon. He swallowed hard and did what I told him.

Cloudjumper growled, but leaned forward to sniff his hand. The growl turned into a purr, and he rested his snout in Eret's palm. And the purr turned into a croon.

"Your heart is now clean, Eret," I said. "Whatever you have done to dragons in the past has no bearing now. Cloudjumper sees you as a friend. And you have bonded with Skullcrusher already, and he was bonded to Stoick before you. And Stoick had the blood of _many_ dragons on his hands, before he learned the truth. We cannot change what has been, but we can use what is to shape what will be."

As I was speaking, Eret was sinking to his knees, his hand still resting on Cloudjumper's snout. And the tears he was fighting so hard to hold back before were flowing freely as he wept silently.

"Find your belinging here, Eret, son of Eret," I said. "Berk is clearly a place for new beginnings. At least it is for me, and I am sure it can be for you as well, if you will let it."

As I said that, Cloudjumper moved closer and wrapped a wing around Eret, and the man's sobbing was no longer silent. This pain had been with him a long time, though he had only just recently begun to feel it. And I wondered if Stoick had faced such a moment when he faced the truth. Probably. But he would have let his emotions out so strongly in the presence of anyone else, other than me. And I wasn't there. Eret carried his pain, and I carried mine. And just as I told him, I would use what is to shape what will be.


	9. Entry 11

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon_

* * *

VALKA'S JOURNAL

ENTRY 11

If I thought Tuffnut was hart to track down, my own son was next to impossible. He also was all over the island, but he got around on the back of a Night Fury. And unless you were riding a Nadder stuffed with chicken, you didn't have a snowball's chance in Hel of keeping up. It's been three days since Drago and his bewilderbeast were driven off. I would have thought that talking to him would be easier, but he woke before dawn so he and Toothless could get in their daily flight together, and then it was chiefing all day. He ate lunch in the wild, somewhere he could only reach by flight, and when he got home he looked like he was about to drop. He went straight to the same chair Stoick used, and sat there with an iceblock to his forehead, just like Stoick did.

That's how he was this evening, and I couldn't stand it anymore. Since he became Chief, we had not spoken hardly at all, even though we lived in the same house. That had to change.

"Hiccup," I said quietly out of respect for his obvious headache. "Son, we need to talk."

He sighed. "I don't feel like talking about it right now, mom," he said gently.

"About what?" I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew the answer already.

He looked up at me with those intense green eyes of his. "Dad's death. That's all everyone seems to want to talk about."

I was right, but that wasn't what I wanted to talk about. "Actually, I want to talk about you."

His eyes darted to the floor. "Oh," he said, then he looked back up at me with a more relaxed expression. "What about me?"

"I've been talking to people, and I have come to learn that all the accomplishments berk has made in the last five years were all because of _you,"_ my voice was a little hard, but I didn't care. The way he told things back at the dragon sanctuary, his involvement was secondary. "You took on a queen dragon single-handedly and almost died defeating it. You showed everyone the truth about dragons. You led an expedition that dealt a crippling blow to the dragon hunting trade and ultimately led to the salvation of a bewilderbeast egg. Alvin and the Outcasts are even allies with Berk because of you."

Hiccup sighed. "I just don't like calling attention to myself." he said. "Maybe one time I did, before I shot down Toothless. But when I saw how badly I had hurt him as a result of pride and a desire to stand out, I realized that I had to change." He put the iceblock down and looked directly at me. "Besides. Everything I did was what had to be done. It was simply my duty. I don't recall Dad ever thumping his chest and putting himself on a pedestal for doing his duty. He didn't, and neither do I. Besides, there are more than enough other people who sang his praises who sing mine. I won't stop others from voicing their opinion. But I refuse to offer public opinion of myself. Remember what Old Wrinkly used to say? 'If a man lifts himself up, the only way down is to fall.'"

He had me there. Clearly, at fifteen, he had learned a bit of wisdom few Viking learn in a lifetime. "You're right, son. I just don't want you to feel lass about yourself."

He chuckled. "With you, Astrid and Gobber in my life, I doubt you'll have anythinf to worry about."

Hiccup and I continued to talk for a while, and the conversation shifted to what was to become of the Dragon Academy.

Hiccup had always considered Astrid to be his second in command and so he was thinking of turning the Academy over to her now that he was Chief had to spend more and more time managing the entire village.

"That isn't a good idea, son," I said.

"Oh?" he countered.

"Think about it," I replied. "Soon the two of you will be married. And as the wife of a Chief, it will be her duty to help you with yours. Your father never remarried, so he took all the burden on his shoulders. But you do not have do that. She will share it with you."

Hiccup pursed his lips in thought. "Well then who will take over the Academy?"

"I will," I answered without hesitation. Working with dragons, and finally being able to help others understand them was something I knew I could do. I was a misfit on Berk before Cloudjumper carried me away.

His eyes lit up and he was grinning. "Of _course,_ " he said. "You have twenty years of experience with Dragons. And you haven't just _worked_ with them. You've _lived_ with them." But then his shoulders slumped. "But, Astrid has been there since the beginning of the Academy. And I am not going to pile a workload on her just because she will be a Chief's wife. If she offers help in that regard, then fine, but it isn't something I will expect of her." He was smiling again. "One thing you specialized in was rescuing dragons. There is still a need for that. Drago is still out there, and he will be trying to rebuild his dragon army. An easier task with that Bewilderbeast of his. But he will still be relying on trappers. I'm putting you in charge of all dragon rescue operations. Astrid will head all local dragon operations. And both of you will share leadership of the Academy."

My eyes had gone wide. In the space of a moment, he had solved multiple problems at once while demonstrating fairness.

"And another thing that I could really use your help with," he said

"Name it," I prompted.

"We drew maps in the snow back on Itchy Armpit." he stated. "Yours was bigger."

"You had the right idea, Hiccup," I said. "There's no better way to map the world than from the back of a dragon. And a lot of ground can be covered in 20 years."

He nodded. "Well, now that I'm chief, I cannot afford the time to go flying all over the world, So I would like for you to take the map I have produced and build upon it based on what you learned in your travels. And please, make any notes you can about settlements, dragon nests, and anything else you can think of. If there are potential allies out there, I need to know where, so contact can be made. If there are potential enemies out there, I need to know where so contact can be avoided."

I nodded. "Some of the information may be several years out of date, but I can always take Cloudjumper and get updates. Some of the relationships between human settlements were strained, and some were even at war. It will help to know which way the political winds are blowing."

"And how dragons are affected by it," he added. "Those areas of contest are likely to have a lot of displaced dragons. And the conflict has played out, it's important to know if those in power are open to the truth."

"I would be careful there." I said, and noted his confused look. "Just because a tribe might become dragon friendly doesn't mean they will prove to be Berk-friendly. There are a lot of warlords out in the wider world. Drago was just the closest one. You've seen the sort of damage he can do with dragons he had forced into his service. Imagine how much more damage could be done by dragons willing to do almost anything for their bonded humans."

I saw the flash of fear in Hiccup's eyes. "I had not considered that. I... Even with our current allies, we don't have the manpower to police the world. And if we turn _conquering_ tribes into dragon riders, then no peaceful tribe will be safe." he shook his head "No wonder why Dad was so insistent about keeping to ourselves. I wish I had paid closer attention to him."

I placed my hand on his. "There were things Stoick wished he had listened to _his_ father about. Even so, he had the benefit of hindsight. And so do you. As you are now chief, looking back, you will likely understand why your father made the decisions he made. And that will help you make the decisions you will make."

"I'm so glad you're here, Mom," he said.

I patted his hand. "Me, too, son."

And I was. The way Berk had turned out under Hiccup's influence was beyond my wildest dreams. And being a part of what would be, going forward, made me happier than I had been in twenty years.


	10. Entries 12-13

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon_

* * *

VALKA'S JOURNAL

ENTRY 12

Spitelout was never an easy person to deal with, even when we were growing up. He was as stubborn as a mule, with an emotional shell as hard as a rock. It was a wonder he ever got married, and a good thing that I pulled his wife aside and told her where the cracks in that shell were and how to make use of them. If I hadn't there would have been no happiness for her, and it is likely that my nephew, Snotlout, would have been born.

Of course, He knew that I was the one who gave Jara the leverage she had over him, and it caused a rift between us that, as far as I know, is still as wide today as it was the night Cloudjumper carried me away.

Still, he's my brother, and I have missed him. If Berk can change, then perhaps things between me and him can as well.

ENTRY 13

Well that didn't go as expected. I got to my brother's house around mid-morning. I knocked on the door, and he opened it. He took one look at me, his eyes widened, and he slammed the door in my face.

I pounded my fist on the door. "Oh, no you don't Spitelout Jorgenson! You open this door and face me or so help me Thor, I'll have Cloudjumper blast it to pieces, and you'll face me anyway!"

The door opened slowly, and Jara Jorgenson was standing before me with a frown. "This door happens to be as much mine as it is my husband's Lady Haddock. Otherwise, I would say, blast away, and I would be thrilled to watch."

Seeing her again brought a smile to my face, and I hugged her. I had left so many people behind, It was good to know that I could have them back in my life. Jara turned and went into the back part of the house, and I could hear shouting. First her voice, then my brother's voice, back and forth. Then he shouted something, and I heard her say something in a slow soft tone, and then silence.

A moment later, my brother walked in, looking both deflated and defeated. Whatever Jara had softly said might as well have been a mace to the head. "Welcome home, Valka," he said in a tone that sounded only slightly forced.

"Thanks," I said.

We talked of the past, and he brought up how infuriated he was at my interference with his wife. He went on about how a Jorgenson was meant to do as a Jorgenson _wills_ to do.

I reminded him that the moment he married Jara, she became a Jorgenson, too. So the Jorgenson rull applied to her as well.

"In the name of Asgard, woman," he said. "You told her every weakness about me you grew up knowing. And damn it all, even to this day she still knows how to use them."

I laughed. "Now you remember that old saying Old Wrinkly had, right? 'If you don't want other people knowing about the skeletons in your closet, don't hide them there to begin with."

He just looked at me with one side of his mouth turned up and the other side turned down. "I always hated it when you would quote Old Wrinkly?"

"Well," I said. "You can't argue with his wisdom."

He chuckled. "Well, you can, but you'll lose."

"And we Jorgensons don't lose!" we said together.

Suddenly he grabbed me in a bear-hug, lifted me off the ground, did a complete turn and then put me down, kissing me on the forehead. "You don't know how much I missed you, Val."

"Are those tears I see in your eyes, brother," I asked.

He quickly wiped his eyes. "Woman!" he called.

Jara stood up from where she had quietly been watching us. She looked at me with a knowing grin. " Yes, dear?"

"There's a lot of dust in here, love," he said calmly. "Would you mind doing something about it?"

She was barely able to stifle a laugh. "Of course, dear," she said.

"Right, then." he said as he grabbed the spear leaning next to the door. "I'm off to do some hunting." and with that he was out the door, which slammed behind him.

Jara and I looked at each other, and started laughing.

"Dust," we said at the same time...


End file.
